Chapter Twenty: The News of Death

Twenty minutes later, the car arrived at Clayton Gardens.

It was morning, not the peak hour for visitors at Clayton Gardens, which made the picturesque spot all the more tranquil and perfect for clearing one’s mind.

Vila and Dempsey stepped out of the car and walked side by side.

Dempsey kept his hands in his pockets, wearing a sullen expression, playing the role of a bodyguard with some degree of conviction. "Look, that’s the Muna River."

"I know." Vila looked toward the Muna River, which flowed through the entirety of Rezein alongside the garden. "In fact, People's Square, the Monsei Palace—all the true essence of Rezein—is built along the banks of the Muna. You could say Rezein is the heart of Bressi, and the banks of the Muna are the heart of Rezein."

"You certainly know a lot now," Dempsey said, taking a sharp breath of fresh air and sighing. "We’ve both changed."

"It’s only been a few days."

"That’s right. Only a few days."

The two shared a tacit understanding.

"In which direction is the hotel where you and Nord are staying?" Vila changed the subject.

Dempsey looked left and right, pondering, "North, I suppose."

Vila walked to the riverbank, resting his hands on the railing as he looked toward the north on the opposite side. "I wonder how Nord is doing. That kid will have a hard time on his own."

"Don’t worry, Nord is fine," Dempsey said, patting Vila on the shoulder.

"I hope so."

Vila paused by the river for a while before walking with Dempsey to explore other parts of the garden.

"Strange," Dempsey muttered, frequently turning his head.

"What is it?"

"Do you ever feel like someone is following us?" Dempsey felt that something was off.

"Stop letting your imagination run wild. Just enjoy the walk," Vila said, giving Dempsey a push and walking ahead without looking back.

Hundreds of meters behind them, Chloe chose not to follow any further. Instead, he walked to the spot where Vila had just been standing by the railing, extracted a slip of paper from a gap in the fence, scanned the contents, tore it into pieces, and tossed them into the Muna River.

***

In the afternoon, Vila and Dempsey finished visiting three locations and returned to the Thomas family estate by car.

Before they had even entered the mansion after getting out of the car, Fletcher stepped out to meet them. "How was your day, Master Chris?"

"Thank you for your concern. Getting out and about really helped lift my spirits. I hope to recover soon," Vila replied.

Upon entering the estate, as expected, Fletcher sent Vila back to Chris’s bedroom to rest, and Dempsey disappeared from view.

Left alone once again, Vila lay spread-eagled on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

At the moment he had slipped the note into the railing by the river, he felt as if something had been missing from within him. Along the way, he had turned the thought over and over, trying to find what he had lost, but found nothing.

It was the kind of thing you never notice while you possess it, and can only feel the absence of once it is gone.

Vila regretted bringing Nord and Dempsey here. He realized his initial thinking had been too naive; the friendship of the slums could hardly withstand the temptation of wealth and status. Perhaps when Fletcher had initially agreed to his request, he had already considered using his friends to monitor and control him when necessary.

Here, there was no right or wrong, only positions.

If Nord held fast to his principles, he would be killed. If Dempsey learned to compromise, he would be killed as well.

Vila desperately wished for a chance to do it all over again. If he had another chance, he would still choose to go to Rezein, because he loathed the fate of being trampled upon. But Rezein was no place for Nord and Dempsey. He would have let them both go home on that rainy night. Then, before the Thomas family arrived, he would have transferred his rented room to Nord and left his camera for Dempsey to use.

But it was too late.

"Do not make such mistakes again," Vila could only warn himself.

In the future, he would need to be more cautious and make decisions with greater composure. This place was unlike anywhere else; his mistakes would cost innocent lives.

Vila wanted to get ahead, to live a life he once wouldn't even dare to imagine, but he did not want such a life if it were stained by the blood of his friends and the innocent. The spiritual torment would cause him agony, rendering him unable to taste the joys of a luxurious life.

Pushing the jumbled thoughts to the back of his mind, Vila steeled himself.

Today, Carmine was working, Julia was at school, and Kellerman was out for dinner with her fiancé. Only Mela, who lived across from the study, was present. Fletcher would be questioning Dempsey, and recounting the entire day would take considerable time.

This was a rare opportunity to sneak into the study.

Although Mela was across the hall, she would be unlikely to notice if he didn't make too much noise.

Vila acted with more resolve. After mentally organizing the situation, he left his room and followed his old route: first entering Julia's room, then climbing through the window to reach Carmine's study.

In the past few days, due to the dual surveillance of Fletcher and Dempsey, he had no chance to go out alone. He had been forced to rely on deductions in his mind, ultimately narrowing down the most suspicious bookshelf as the focus of today’s search.

He got to work immediately, carefully combing through the shelves.

Searching the bookshelves was far more difficult than the display racks; the sheer volume and level of detail were much greater. Vila wasn't sure how long Fletcher would question Dempsey, and after half an hour of searching only half the shelves, he had to retreat empty-handed to play it safe.

Back in his bedroom, he waited for over an hour before Fletcher finally returned with Dempsey.

Had Vila known he had another hour, it would have been enough to finish the shelves. If the hidden compartment was indeed there, he might have already found information on Chris. However, one cannot have both success and safety, and Vila cared little for such gains and losses.

"Continue your training," Fletcher said upon entering the bedroom, reverting to his cold tone and beginning their routine training with a stony face.

Vila pulled himself together to cope.

After training until dinner, Fletcher took Dempsey away.

Vila stood by the window, staring listlessly at the starry sky.

Tonight would likely be the last time he saw Dempsey. In the end, Vila said nothing to him. He wanted to say something to this friend who had already changed, but given the efficiency of the rebel organization, he feared Dempsey would be dealt with that very night. If he showed any abnormal behavior, Fletcher would likely suspect him afterward.

Knowing that Dempsey was unlikely to survive the night, Vila felt no drowsiness and remained standing until two or three in the morning before forcing himself to sleep.

The next day.

Surprisingly, Fletcher did not wake him for breakfast. Vila slept until he woke naturally, and when he checked the time, it was already past ten.

Just before lunch, Fletcher knocked and entered, saying apologetically, "I am very sorry, but due to some reasons that cannot be explained for the time being, Dempsey has returned to the hotel. I will find a way to have him come back in a while."

These words were no different from a death sentence.